


I itch for you (you're just my type)

by camiii



Series: love and kickin'!verse [2]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sex Talk, kind of, timstamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7850227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camiii/pseuds/camiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis returns from Nick's and has an unexpected, early morning chat with his mum.</p><p>A timestamp set during chapter two of love & kickin'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I itch for you (you're just my type)

**Author's Note:**

> so. I wrote a thing. in the love and kickin’!verse because apparently I’m not quite ready to let that go just yet. this was posted on tumblr a few days ago but I figured I'd post it here too, to keep track of everything.
> 
> spoilers for chapter two, I guess. Louis’ POV. 
> 
> unbeta’d and not britpicked. sorry about that. title is borrowed from years & years - real.

 

 

 

It’s a chilly morning, and Louis shivers as he walks from the garage to the front door. He moves slowly, still feeling a little floaty. It’s past four in the morning and he should be tired, probably is if he stops to think about it, but for now there’s no room in his head for anything but Nick. He’d suspected they’d be good together and he had been right. The last couple of hours feel a little like a dream, like something too good, too _hot_ , to be real. He’d asked for Nick to make him feel it and, well, he can fucking feel it, alright. The memory of Nick on top of him makes him shiver for a whole different reason as he unlocks the door, quietly slipping inside the house. 

The house is quiet, and he closes the door behind him carefully. Turning around he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror in the hallway, and stops dead in his tracks. He looks...disheveled and there’s a smile on his face he hadn’t even been aware of. He breathes out a quiet chuckle, reaching out to try and tame his hair. He’s unsuccessful.

Next time he’ll make sure they have more time, wouldn’t be opposed to spending a whole day in bed with Nick. The urge to stay at Nick’s had been almost visceral, an ache somewhere behind his ribs at the mere thought of leaving. He slips out of his Vans, leaving them by the door as he heads for the kitchen. He’s thirsty, has his aim set for the juice he only keeps in his fridge when his siblings are around. There’s plenty of juice left in the carton, and he’s pulling it out when a voice cuts through the otherwise silent room.

“Good morning.”

He doesn’t scream but it’s a close thing. He does jump a good two feet into the air, dropping the juice carton, hand clutched dramatically to his chest as he spins around. His mum is seated on the padded bench in the bay window, legs tucked under her and mug of tea in her hand. She’s regarding him carefully, eyebrow raised and he’s so, so fucked.

“Holy shit.” Louis breathes out, the rush of adrenaline through his system making him light headed as he bends down to pick up the battered carton. Luckily it had a screw cap or he would have had juice all over the floor. He straightens where he stands, fighting the urge to reach out in another desperate attempt to tame his hair into something looking a little less like ‘I just got fucked real good’. “Mum. What are you doing up?”

“Ernie had a bad dream.” His mum says. “Once I got him to settle down I couldn’t go back to sleep.” She’s clearly fighting a smile and Louis regrets not having had a trap door installed in his kitchen while he had the chance. It would have come in handy right about now. “What about you?”

“Uhm.” He probably looks like a deer caught in headlights, can’t for the life of him come up with a passable excuse about why he’s awake at five in the morning. His mum knows him, knows it takes at least three separate alarms to get him out of bed on a good day. He’s still racking his brain for a reason when his mum starts laughing. He can _feel_ himself blushing and wow, he should have settled for drinking tap water. In his bathroom. His mum is still laughing. This is quite possibly worse than the time when he was twelve and she gave him a lesson about how to clear out his web history. “Would you believe me if I said I couldn’t sleep?”

“Not for one second.” His mum chuckles, “Nice love bite.” She adds, with a pointed look somewhere on the left side of his throat.

This keeps getting worse. “Ugh,” He groans weakly, but his mum only laughs. “Stop it!”

“Oh, come on.” Jay laughs, pulling a hand through her hair. “Good night?”

“We’re not having this conversation.” 

“Looks like it to me.”

“Stop it!” Louis is pretty sure the words come out sounding as scandalized as he feels. “You’re my mum! You’re not supposed to comment on my-” He manages to cut himself off before he can say the words ‘sex life’, clinging to the last shreds of pretense.

Jay scoffs, “I have seven children, you know, I know what good sex-”

“Please stop, I am begging you.” Louis groans, burying his face in his hands, but he’s laughing too.

“Alright.” His mum grins. “You’re not saying I’m wrong, though.”

“You’re horrible, and no comment.” Louis tells her solemnly, rubbing at the back of his neck and willing himself to stop blushing. He reaches for the kettle to have something to occupy himself with, no longer in the mood for juice. Traumatic experiences like this one requires tea. “Can I make you another cuppa?”

“Please.” Jay smiles, holding her mug out for him. He takes it, studiously avoiding looking her in the eyes and ignoring the quiet chuckle when she notices. Waiting for the kettle he sneaks his phone out of his pocket, firing off a row of texts to Nick with his back turned. He’s not expecting a reply, hopes Nick is fast asleep but still feels the need to tell someone and well, it’s Nick’s fault.

_Got caught by mum sneaking back in_

_Wtf is she doing up at five ???_

_She can’t stop laughing help_

He makes the tea once the kettle has come to a boil, bringing both mugs with him and sitting down opposite his mum on the bench. It feels weird, seeing the kitchen from this angle. He rarely sits in this spot, prefers the kitchen island or the living room. His muscles protest a little as he tucks one foot under his thigh, making his stomach swoop as he’s reminded of the last couple of hours. He can picture himself having breakfast here in this spot with Nick, their legs tangling together in the tight space. They will have to do that sometime, maybe in spring, with sunlight dancing through the window.

“You look happy, darling.” Jay says, curling her fingers around her mug.

He blinks, brought out of his reverie. “I am.” He admits, moving the tea bag around inside the mug, giving the task more attention than it needs before daring a quick look in her direction. Something about the look on her face, the calm acceptance of anything he might be willing to share, prompts him to continue. “He’s -” he trails off, not quite sure how to put it into words. It’s a lot, the emotions that surge through him at the thought of Nick. Of the two of them together. It’s something he’s been waiting for, wishing for, yet now that it might finally be his he finds himself wholly unprepared for the intensity of it. He used to think he used up all his luck when the club decided to sign him, because talent and hard work can only get you so far, and playing for Arsenal never seemed possible until he actually got that red jersey with his name on it. Now he’s not so sure, because finding Nick feels a bit like it should come with a bright blue genie and an obnoxious parrot.

“Do you love him?”

His mum’s words should probably terrify him, have him spluttering something about ‘good fun’ and ‘too soon’ but they don’t. He answers honestly, could never lie about this. “I think I’m getting there.”

“That’s wonderful.” His mum says, reaching out to squeeze his knee. “You deserve it.”

Louis looks down, shrugs. He blames the lack of sleep for the sudden tightness of his throat and the way his eyes are burning. He keeps thinking about his seventeen year old self; so terrified of anyone finding out about his secrets, so convinced he would never be able to tell the truth, that he’d always be hiding. Now here he is. “Yeah.” He agrees, eventually, “maybe.”

“You do, Louis.” His mum’s tone demands eye contact, and when he dares look at her he’s shocked to find her close to tears too.

“Shit,” he croaks out, wiping at his eyes. “Yeah. Okay.” He chuckles wetly, “how did we end up crying in my bloody kitchen at five in the morning?”

“Well, you snuck out to-”

“Yes, thank you, that was a rhetorical question.” Louis splutters, but the whole situation is so bizarre he has to laugh, and only laughs harder when his mum joins in. “But you liked him, yeah?” It’s not until the question hangs in the air that he realises how important his mum’s approval is.

“Nick looks at you like you hung the moon.” His mum replies, sipping her tea before she continues, “and your eyes crinkle just from talking about him, how could I possibly dislike him, darling?”

“He’s great.” Louis smiles, knowing it’s probably the understatement of the century. “We’re great. I keep waiting for things to get hard, yeah? But with him it’s just...easy?”

They lapse into silence, both occupied with their own thoughts. Louis has another mouthful of tea, can feel himself crashing hard. The long day, the tea and the roller coaster of emotions all piled together, weighing on his limbs. The second time he has to stifle a yawn his mum speaks up.

“Go to bed, darling.” She tells him, gently. “You’ve had a long day.” Her smile turns mischievous, “and night.”

The disapproving glare he manages seems to only add to her mirth, but he’s too tired now to do more than that. He gets to his feet slowly, nearly swaying where he stands. “You’re having breakfast before you leave, right? I’ll set my alarm.”

“Of course.” His mum replies “And don’t bother with that, Doris and Ernest will make sure you’re up.”

She reaches out for him and it’s easy then, to curl into her embrace, hiding his face in her hair and breathe in the familiar smell of her shampoo. “Night, mum.”

His mum chuckles, kissing his cheek. ”Sleep well, love.”

He ambles out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom, finding the room blessedly dark. It’s heavenly, slipping beneath the duvet, still fully clothed He should probably have a shower but there’s no way he’s doing that now. It’s past five in the morning and if he’s lucky he’ll get two hours of sleep before the twins come barging through the door. Yawning so big his jaw feels like it might dislocate, he curls up on his side, only barely remembering to pull his phone from his pocket before he succumbs to sleep.

He dreams of Nick, and wakes up to Doris kneeing him in the ribs and Ernie poking at his cheek with a jam sticky finger.

 

 

 


End file.
